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She's Trying to Take my Son
I first saw her when I picked up Lucas from school last week. As I watched the kids stream out of the school’s front doors, I noticed her standing on the edge of the lawn. Her arms dangled straight at her sides and her wrinkled face was glaring at the children in a way that seemed off. The woman looked to be in her late 60s, early 70’s with white, wiry shoulder-length hair. She wore a long dress that looked vintage and from her vacant expression, she appeared to be mentally unstable. As the children flooded the school's front lawn headed to their buses and cars, the woman began walking awkwardly towards the kids, slowly at first. It was then I noticed then she wasn’t wearing shoes. My gaze returned to the kids, and Lucas appeared in the sea of ruddy faces, his backpack looking like an over-sized prop on his small frame. I smiled and waved, but he didn’t yet see me. When I looked back to the strange woman, I saw she was walking faster, her arms straight at her sides and that intense, unnatural expression fixed on her pale face. She was moving directly towards my son, and my stomach did a little flip as anxiety built. I instinctively opened the car door and exited the vehicle. “Lucas!” I called out, well-aware this might embarrass him, I’d apologize later. Lucas looked up in surprise. He lowered his head as if to become invisible and shifted his direction towards my car. I looked back at that woman to see she had altered her course too, clearly making a bee-line straight towards my son. Something was very wrong. I jogged over to my son and placed my hand on his shoulder. “Mom, you’re embarrassing me,” Lucas mumbled as expected. “I’m sorry honey, I'm just in a rush is all.” I looked back up to the old woman. She was closer now but standing still. She looked unsettling; her unkempt hair was a mess and smudges of dirt were visible on her spotted, weathered skin. I watched as she then turned slowly back around to face the woods at the school edge. I continued watching as she began walking away. My gaze followed her pale, sinewy legs down to her bare bony feet. They were dark with crusted stains that looked like blood. “I thought you were in a rush?” Lucas asked in frustration, but I just stood there and watched the woman traverse the lawn, eventually disappearing into the woods. “Let’s go, honey.” I led Lucas to the car, looking back over my shoulder to make sure she was gone. Opting to not cause a panic, I didn’t notify the school just yet. While it had appeared she was heading towards my kid, that wasn't certain. I tried to rationalize how she might have just mistaken my son for her grandchild. Maybe she was confused, lost or homeless. Still, I couldn’t shake that awful feeling of dread that had roiled inside of me as that woman approached my son. The following day, I decided to arrive at the school early. I dread to think what might have happened if I hadn't. At 2:40 I pulled up to Lucas’s elementary and waited in the car. It wasn’t until 2:48 I heard the faint crackle of twigs that alerted me to the white hair peeking through the trees. That same, disheveled woman emerged, the same mask-like expression of intense concentration fixed on her wrinkled face. The diplomat I was, I decided to have a chat with the woman before letting my emotions take control. I exited the vehicle and walked towards her. With every step, I felt a tingle in my neck that shouted something was terribly wrong. I walked closer to her until I stood about ten feet from the woman and I lifted a hand up in greeting. “Hi there. How are you?” I asked. The old woman slowly turned her gaunt face towards me, her wide eyes foggy from cataracts. Her waxen lips hung open and a trickle of drool seeped out from her crooked mouth. She looked deranged, but I tried reasoning with her. “Do you have a kid at this school? If not, you are not legally allowed to be here.” No reply. Anger bubbled up but soon shifted into fear. Something was very wrong with her, that much was clear. The clamor of excited children began behind me as they exited the school. “Excuse me, ma’am. Hey! I’m talking to you,” I tried to sound threatening but no doubt came across as nervous. The woman’s eyes twitched in her deep eye sockets and a dusty wheeze escaped her throat. I swear I could smell the stink of rot on her breath from nearly three meters back. I tensed up as she began walking towards me fast and determined, and I stepped to the side. The old woman continued walking past me. I then saw my kid; she was walking directly towards my son. Adrenaline flooded my body as I ran past the old lady towards Lucas. I turned to the old woman; she was drooling heavily, her wrinkled chin was shiny with seeping saliva. I jogged, ignoring the stares of other children as I intercepted my son and ushered him quickly to the car with both hands on his shoulders. “Mom! What the hell?” he protested, but I kept guiding him to the car. I turned back to see the strange woman fast approaching. I shoved Lucas into the car, well-aware I must have looked crazy. “I’m sorry, there is a woman who looks very dangerous out there,” I explained and I sped away down the tarmac. I checked the rearview as I sped away, and that old woman was walking down the street after us in slow pursuit. I drove cautiously until she was out of view and there was a good distance between us before driving home. I apologized to Lucas and explained what had happened. “Who is she? What does she want?” he asked, sadness creaking in his small voice. I didn’t have those answers. Once home, I dialed the school as well as the police. I gave a complete description of the woman, her direction of origin in the woods and anything else I could think of. I decided to excuse Lucas from school the following day, expressing the fact I didn’t feel safe until this woman was gone. I did my best to sounds calm not to scare my son, and I told him the school was taking care of it. Once I explained we could spend the day watching movies and eating ice cream, he cheered up a bit. Yesterday I spent the bulk of the day on the phone with the school as well as the police, filing complaints and explaining everything in detail, over and over again. “Do you know this woman?” No. “She’s not related to your ex-husband?” No. “Did this woman actually touch your son.” No. “Did she say anything to him?” No. No. No and no. With every single ‘no’, I began feeling more like I was overreacting. Both the police and the secretary at the school said no such woman was there, and I began to consider the fact it was just some unfortunate coincidence until Lucas began repeating “Mom” and called me over. I walked into the living room to find Lucas pointing his small finger to the window, his face pale and eyes watery with pooling tears. I looked out the bay window and there she was, standing in the middle of our street. That same old woman with wide, milky eyes, drool glazing her slack jaw and her eyes wide and cloudy. I called the police immediately, frantically explaining she was here at my home. I raced through the house, locking the doors and windows. By the time I finished securing the ground floor, she was gone, no longer visible out in the street. The police arrived quickly and I explained the scenario from the beginning yet again. Due to the frequency and severity of these encounters, they stationed an officer who parked out front to watch over the house in case she returned. I moved Lucas’s mattress to the floor of my room and shut the curtains. After a day of watching superhero films and various cartoons, Lucas fell asleep and eventually, I was able to as well. I awoke when I heard Lucas scream. My heart raced and I leaped to my feet. Lucas was at the window being dragged by his wrist by a liver-spotted hand on a long, sagging arm. The woman was in the open window, her gray tongue flopping out of her wrinkled, toothless mouth. I screamed and grabbed my son's reaching arm, pulling him with all my strength. That woman was far stronger than she appeared, and I was unable to yank my son from her grasp. I grabbed the heavy reading lamp from my nightstand and brought it down hard on her elbow repeatedly with jarring cracks until she released her grip on my son’s bicep. Once freed, Lucas rushed to me and cowered behind my legs. I watched in terror as the old woman scuttled out of the window frame, her limbs moving calculated and deftly, almost reminiscent of an insect's. I cradled my crying son, who was now shivering and sobbing. I then peered out the window before closing and locking it. There was no sign of the woman. I called the police and soon heard the knock at the door. I once again found myself answering questions. No, I do not know who this woman is. No, I do not know how she opened the locked bedroom window. No, I do not know how she scaled the side of my two-story home. All I know is that she’s trying to take my son and I'm scared to death I won't be able to stop her. Category:Fanfic Category:Creepypasta